(brought to you by the letter F)
It's been almost a week since I posted and, not coincidentally, a week since my last rest day. I woke up sore this morning, feeling the build up of the last seven days of training, like wire, cold and stiff, tangled through my muscles. I smiled and stretched, feeling the pain in a healthy, respectful way, reflecting on all the work I'd done to bring me here. As each muscle contracted and relaxed, from my fingers, to my neck, through my core, to my toes, I visualised the other work that was going on now. Repair, rebuild, build stronger. Which brings me to the first 'F':
Food... For this trip I wanted to make a real effort to be diet conscious, with a focus on breakfast, the most important meal of the day. Every day I start with a variation on tamago-gohan, a traditional Japanese meal consisting of steamed rice and raw egg. To this I add natto (a sticky fermented soy bean product), pumpkin seeds, wakame (seaweed), kinako (roasted soybean flour) and a dash of soy sauce. The mixture of steamed rice, raw egg and natto provides a complex and complete, bioavailable combination of amino acids for protein assimilation, as well as some complex carbohydrates for lasting energy. The seaweed and pumpkin seeds deliver high levels of zinc and vitamin C (for immune system health, general repair), magnesium and potassium (for muscle performance, reduced cramping) and a few other essential vitamins and minerals. To round it off with a burst of energy I'll have a banana or orange and a cup of tea or juice. Lunch and dinner are more variable. Dinner is usually my vege loading meal, with lunch providing a midday boost, a bridge of carbs and a little protein to get me through the rest of the day's training.
By midday my muscles have relaxed into the gentle thrum of repair, no longer sore, not yet ready to be pushed to their limit. I reflect on the other work I've been doing this week, with another 'F':
Fear... On Sunday I joined about 25 other traceurs and traceuses for the monthly 'Off the Wall' jam (as pictured above), organised by Parkour Generations. We were training at a playground not far from Archway tube station when I found a simple precision jump that welded my feet to the brickwork. The jump was small, maybe 7 feet. The gap enclosed a small garden, 4 feet below. On the other side of the jump, however, was a 12 foot drop into a driveway. I knew I could technically make the jump (coming from the other direction was as comfortable as at ground level), but as the drop on the other side came into view I lost power. My legs would not move. I forced myself to jump twice, both times undershooting and bouncing back into an arm-jump position. Then I was able to jump and land in a crane position, keeping one leg on the 'safe' side. I could not bring myself to precision jump the 7 feet. I left it for another day, focusing on some other techniques in the area.
On Wednesday, Lauri invited me back to Archway. Immediately the jump came to mind and I said to myself "today you will make it, precise and controlled". Two hours later I was on top of the wall. Thinking.
I asked myself what it would take for me to complete the jump. I thought about different ways of visualising the jump - imagining that the drop wasn't there, trying to enlarge the landing in my minds eye, pretending that I had already made the jump. Looking back, I am glad that these techniques didn't work. What finally gave me the power to overcome my fear was not a trick. I didn't have to rely on an illusion, or change anything about the way I saw my environment. Instead I made a plan, based on the possible outcomes of me jumping from A to B. As I saw it there were three possible outcomes: An undershoot, an overshoot, or a stable landing. I had already practiced undershooting and catching myself and I was comfortable with a stable landing. So I looked at what an overshoot entailed. It was a big drop, but I realised that if I had enough forward momentum I could take the drop with a roll. So in the case of an overshoot, the plan was to add a gentle push, succumb to gravity momentarily and roll out.
Suddenly I noticed something happen, as I focused on my target with my plan at the ready, the landing became about 20% larger. It was as though I had, by changing my internal approach to the environment, given myself more space to move in that environment. In essence, that is exactly what I had done. I had given myself options.
Fear was overcome not by discounting the possibility that I might go over the edge, but by being prepared to go over the edge... I jumped, landing precisely, controlled and balanced. Not without a big hit of adrenaline, of course: I'm still scared of heights! I jumped another ten times, letting myself feel the technique whilst paying particular attention the effects of the chemicals flooding my system. I felt enlightened, and a little high...
My last two 'Fs' are Focus and Flow, and it was my experience at the top of the wall that made me think of a relationship between these two which I hadn't really thought about before. As practitioners of Parkour (of life), in order to flow from here to there we must focus. This is a simple concept to grasp: To trace the path from A to B we must focus on that path. And naturally all the critical moments or obstacles within that path will attract higher levels of focus as we move from point to point. What struck me about my experience on the wall was that our focus not only includes our projected path, but should also include, to a certain degree, other possible paths. This makes even more sense when B, our goal, is also moving, but still holds true when we are aiming to reach a fixed point. To move confidently we need to not only be prepared to trace the path we desire, but also prepare ourselves at each moment to embrace the path into which we are flung by chance. Otherwise, at the slightest slip or imbalance or a turn of events that is unexpected, we are lost, stopped, frozen to the spot. Without a flexible focus, our flow is fragile.
Food... For this trip I wanted to make a real effort to be diet conscious, with a focus on breakfast, the most important meal of the day. Every day I start with a variation on tamago-gohan, a traditional Japanese meal consisting of steamed rice and raw egg. To this I add natto (a sticky fermented soy bean product), pumpkin seeds, wakame (seaweed), kinako (roasted soybean flour) and a dash of soy sauce. The mixture of steamed rice, raw egg and natto provides a complex and complete, bioavailable combination of amino acids for protein assimilation, as well as some complex carbohydrates for lasting energy. The seaweed and pumpkin seeds deliver high levels of zinc and vitamin C (for immune system health, general repair), magnesium and potassium (for muscle performance, reduced cramping) and a few other essential vitamins and minerals. To round it off with a burst of energy I'll have a banana or orange and a cup of tea or juice. Lunch and dinner are more variable. Dinner is usually my vege loading meal, with lunch providing a midday boost, a bridge of carbs and a little protein to get me through the rest of the day's training.
By midday my muscles have relaxed into the gentle thrum of repair, no longer sore, not yet ready to be pushed to their limit. I reflect on the other work I've been doing this week, with another 'F':
Fear... On Sunday I joined about 25 other traceurs and traceuses for the monthly 'Off the Wall' jam (as pictured above), organised by Parkour Generations. We were training at a playground not far from Archway tube station when I found a simple precision jump that welded my feet to the brickwork. The jump was small, maybe 7 feet. The gap enclosed a small garden, 4 feet below. On the other side of the jump, however, was a 12 foot drop into a driveway. I knew I could technically make the jump (coming from the other direction was as comfortable as at ground level), but as the drop on the other side came into view I lost power. My legs would not move. I forced myself to jump twice, both times undershooting and bouncing back into an arm-jump position. Then I was able to jump and land in a crane position, keeping one leg on the 'safe' side. I could not bring myself to precision jump the 7 feet. I left it for another day, focusing on some other techniques in the area.
On Wednesday, Lauri invited me back to Archway. Immediately the jump came to mind and I said to myself "today you will make it, precise and controlled". Two hours later I was on top of the wall. Thinking.
I asked myself what it would take for me to complete the jump. I thought about different ways of visualising the jump - imagining that the drop wasn't there, trying to enlarge the landing in my minds eye, pretending that I had already made the jump. Looking back, I am glad that these techniques didn't work. What finally gave me the power to overcome my fear was not a trick. I didn't have to rely on an illusion, or change anything about the way I saw my environment. Instead I made a plan, based on the possible outcomes of me jumping from A to B. As I saw it there were three possible outcomes: An undershoot, an overshoot, or a stable landing. I had already practiced undershooting and catching myself and I was comfortable with a stable landing. So I looked at what an overshoot entailed. It was a big drop, but I realised that if I had enough forward momentum I could take the drop with a roll. So in the case of an overshoot, the plan was to add a gentle push, succumb to gravity momentarily and roll out.
Suddenly I noticed something happen, as I focused on my target with my plan at the ready, the landing became about 20% larger. It was as though I had, by changing my internal approach to the environment, given myself more space to move in that environment. In essence, that is exactly what I had done. I had given myself options.
Fear was overcome not by discounting the possibility that I might go over the edge, but by being prepared to go over the edge... I jumped, landing precisely, controlled and balanced. Not without a big hit of adrenaline, of course: I'm still scared of heights! I jumped another ten times, letting myself feel the technique whilst paying particular attention the effects of the chemicals flooding my system. I felt enlightened, and a little high...
My last two 'Fs' are Focus and Flow, and it was my experience at the top of the wall that made me think of a relationship between these two which I hadn't really thought about before. As practitioners of Parkour (of life), in order to flow from here to there we must focus. This is a simple concept to grasp: To trace the path from A to B we must focus on that path. And naturally all the critical moments or obstacles within that path will attract higher levels of focus as we move from point to point. What struck me about my experience on the wall was that our focus not only includes our projected path, but should also include, to a certain degree, other possible paths. This makes even more sense when B, our goal, is also moving, but still holds true when we are aiming to reach a fixed point. To move confidently we need to not only be prepared to trace the path we desire, but also prepare ourselves at each moment to embrace the path into which we are flung by chance. Otherwise, at the slightest slip or imbalance or a turn of events that is unexpected, we are lost, stopped, frozen to the spot. Without a flexible focus, our flow is fragile.
